The Hobbit: An Unexpected Dragonslayer
by Winters-Dawn1221
Summary: On the eve of the quest to reclaim a homeland, a strange she-elf comes to Bag-End. This sets off a series of events that none could have forseen. The Dragonborn has come to Middle-earth, and with her, elements of Tamriel bleed through. Dragons, werewolves, thieves, and other, stranger things are encountered as Leara Rose-blade and Thorin Oakenshield fight to lead their company.
1. An Unexpected Dragonslayer

Chapter One: An Unexpected Dragonslayer

Bilbo Baggins of Bag-End had had it.

There were dwarves all over his beloved Hobbit hole! Thirteen of them! And they'd cleared out his entire pantry of food! He had to make at least six trips to the market to make it halfway decent again.

"Gandalf, tell me that no one else is coming!" Bilbo begged the tall Grey Wizard.

"Well... I believe everyone is here," the Wizard informed him.

Before Bilbo could sigh in slight relief, there was a thunderous knock on the door. Startled, the Hobbit went to answer it as all the dwarves filed into the foyer and gathered round.

Bilbo opened the door to reveal a lightly golden skinned She-Elf with dark reddish brown hair and crystal blue eyes. Kinda like if Boromir (who no one knows yet because his father is only about nine at the moment) was a girl and an elf. She wore strange armor (Akaviri if you must know) and had a glowing ebony longsword. A lavender Magelight shimmered above her head and she smiled maniacally.

"Hi! I'm Leara Rose-blade! I heard you guys were hunting a dragon and I decided to travel from my home far away to help." She had what we would call a British accent, more accurately, a London accent, even though London and Britain don't exist.

"How do you know of our top secret quest?" Demanded Thorin Oakenshield, the majestic leader of the not-so-majestic quest.

"Well, I was visiting with my friend and mentor Paarthurnax when he mentioned that he had heard of the evil dragon Smaug who had stolen your mountain. I did some investigating and found out that dwarves were leading the quest. I've never met a dwarf before! They all disappeared from where I live. Calcemo would be so jealous!"

"And Calcemo is...?" Gandalf prompted when Leara Rose-blade had finished speaking.

"He's my High Elven wizard buddy who's obsessed with dwarves!"

"Dear Mahal..." Dwalin muttered

"Disturbing on so many levels..." Glóin whispered.

"I am 170% done," Bilbo said. "Out of my house!"

Suddenly everyone was outside (except Bilbo of course). It was cold and dark despite the fact that it was almost May.

Suddenly, a blonde guy with blue, grey, black, and brown clothes came running up. "Leara... Don't run... Off... And... Leave me at that... Inn with... With a bunch of... Of short and strange people!" He gasped in a voice rather similar to Thorin's in range and frequency.

"Oh Ulfric! I was gonna come back for you!" Leara Rose-blade smiled, patting the poor guy on the shoulder.

Everyone stared at them.

"This is Ulfric Stormcloak! He and Oak-y over there are very similar in many ways down to the fact that they both really don't like elves. Except Stormy here doesn't hate me cos I saved his butt a million times too many. The two even have that one elf they detest above all others!" Leara said very quickly.

"Wow, you really do investigate when you say you investigate!" Kíli exclaimed. "I wanna be just like you!"

"Chill bro, just chill," Fíli said, doing the weird 'stay down' gesture that is typically used for dogs with his hands.

"How exactly do you propose killing the dragon?" Balin asked.

This time Ulfric answered them. "Leara is the Dragonborn, the ultimate Dragonslayer. She kills dragons on a near daily basis. She has dragon skulls decorating her house. She even hangs out with this one nice dragon on top of this mountain. She also saved the whole world from the World Eating Dragon Alduin. She has dragon blood which allows her to use the dragon language in spectacular ways. Leara uses this shout called Dragonrend which knocks dragons out of the sky and forcing them to land. She lives and breathes 'DRAGON'."

The word 'Dragon' hung heavy in the air.

"So... Let us now be off!" Leara Rose-blade screeched. She then glanced at the Company, Gandalf, and Ulfric.

"Um... We don't have any mode of transportation," Bofur said. And this was true since the ponies they would have gotten haven't been brought up from the South Farthing yet.

"Um... Idea!" Leara screamed, causing several Hobbits in Hobbiton to fall over screaming 'Nazgûl! Nazgûl!'

"Leara, please don't..."

"What's she going to do?"

"She's-."

"OD AH VIING!"

"What did she say?"

"Well..."

"Wait - what's that-?"

Suddenly, with a noise like a hurricane, a great red dragon (ironically the same color and size as Smaug, just with more horns on his head) came down upon them.

"DRAGON!"

"DRAGON!"

"MUMMY SAVE ME!"

Everyone glanced at Dwalin but otherwise continued screaming.

"Odahviing!" Leara Rose-blade cried happily and she hugged the very embarrassed Dovah on the muzzle.

"Dovahkiin, why have you summoned me this time? I'm not going to pose as your father so you can get into that bar in Elsweyr... Again," Odahviing said by way of greeting.

"No Odahviing... I just need you to help carry fifteen others and myself to Erebor. You know, that place you're baby brother took over," Leara Rose-blade explained.

"Holy Mahal's hammer! Not only have you called a dragon upon us but it's Smaug's older brother? You have brought our doom upon us all, you She-Elf witch!" Thorin cried, stomping his feet.

Odahviing and Leara stared at him and Ulfric and Gandalf face palmed in unison.

"So..." Odahviing looked back at the High Elf. "I can only carry about five or six. You should call the other two."

Leara Rose-blade nodded thoughtfully, staring at the Company, the Jarl of Eastmarch, and Gandalf. She then turned and her voice shook the foundations of Arda and Nirn themselves, in whatever weird way they're connected.

"PAAR THUR NAX! DUR NEH VIIR!"

Suddenly, like a thunder battle and the smashing of mountains upon mountains, two more dragons came down from the sky.

"LII AAR AH PEYT TUZ VAH DIN!" Durnehviir cried, shouting Leara Rose-blade's name as it translated in the Dragon tongue. He happily nudged the Dragonborn with his muzzle and she patted his nose.

All the dwarves fell over from the sheer force of the Undead Dragon's happy shout, but Gandalf remained upright. He and Paarthurnax regarded each other with furrowed brows.

"Liiaarah Peyttuz-Vahdin?" Ulfric asked, getting to his feet.

"Shut up, stupid face," Leara told him.

"Why have you summoned us? Liiaarah? I was in the middle of 'Eragon'," Paarthurnax questioned, looking from the wizard to the elf.

"That movie sucked," Nori whispered to Dori and Ori.

"I speak of the book," Paarthurnax told them and the Three Ri brothers fell over again out of terror.

"I'm sorry, my Master, but I need you to assist me in carrying these dwarves to the Lonely Mountain so we can deal with Smaug," Leara explained.

Paarthurnax nodded thoughtfully. "Yes... Dibella and Arkay's son is cranky." He then glared at Odahviing. "You should take better care of your siblings."

The red dragon huffed, catching Óin and Glóin's beards on fire. As the two tried to stamp out the fires, Odahviing spoke. "I was busy at the time, dealing with that fellow with the box."

Ulfric blinked, "He came and bothered you too? He tried to take all the Dunmer kids from the Grey Quarter! I-!"

"Shut up, stupid face!" Leara Rose-blade screamed.

"I say, do you really think these dragons can carry us all to Erebor?" Gandalf asked the High Elf inquisitively.

Leara shrugged, "I suspect so."

"No! I will not ride on a dragon with an elf! I would rather-!" Gandalf hit Thorin on the head with his staff and the dwarf king fell over, unconscious.

"Ooh! I haven't seen a dwarf fall over in ages!" Durnehviir laughed. He poked Thorin with his right fore claw but the dark haired dwarf refused to move.

"Okay... Now let us be off!" Leara Rose-blade exclaimed valiantly.

**Author's Note: I have been working on and off with this story since June and now that I have nine chapters and I can find the rhyme and reason behind my writing, I'm ready to start showing this story to the world! Leara Rose-blade, as you can see, is my Altmer Dragonborn, she's a bit crazy. Don't mind her madness, it's in her story line will carry us all the way to the Battle of the Five Armies and beyond. So if you're still a little upset about the Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies, for whatever reason, read this and see if you feel better. Laughter is the best medicine, right? **

**If you, the reader/s, have any suggestions for this story, feel free to review and tell me, or PM me instead. I want this journey to be as enjoyably fun as possible. **

**DISCLAIMER: The Hobbit and all related characters, titles, and scenarios belong to Tolkien Estate, New Line Cinema, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Peter Jackson. The Elder Scrolls Series of video game belong to Bethesda Game Studios. Leara Rose-blade belongs to me. **


	2. Thorin and the No Good, Very Bad Day

Chapter Two: Thorin and the Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Start

Our Altmeri Heroine, along with her moody Jarl sidekick, Gandalf, Thorin the Majestically Unconscious, Kíli Not Cool, and Fíli Not Cool Either all got cozy on Paarthurnax. The Ri brothers, Balin, and Dwalin all got on Durnehviir, abate uncomfortably because he's somewhat undead. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Óin, and Glóin had to squeeze on Odahviing (because Bombur is fat and Óin is fidgety).

Fifteen minutes after Leara's valiant exclamation, the three dragons carrying thirteen dwarves, one High Elf of Altmeri origin, a wizard dressed in a color fitting every fashion season, and a Nord who may or may not be (is) blonde took off.

They flew through the air for a while before Thorin, unmercifully, woke up and started whining.

"I don't like dragons or elves or blonde people!"

"Shut up!"

"Thorin, do behave!"

"Hey!" After Leara and Gandalf, Ulfric and Fíli now took the time to look insulted.

"Fíli ... You're not a people," Kíli told his blonde haired brother unhelpfully.

Suddenly, everyone's stomachs fell from under their ribcages and plummeted to the wilderness below.

Well...

In all actuality, the three dragons tucked in their wings and they themselves plummeted to the earth and everyone else fell off of their backs.

"AHH!"

"AHH!"

"MUMMY!"

"UNCLE SHEO!"

"EEK!"

"GALMAR! MY TEDDY BEAR!"

"MOOSE!"

The party of sixteen human-esque people tumbled into a large pile of brambles. Well, Leara used a Shout and caught herself in midair before drifting down on to a bed of moss. Gandalf, in turn, landed like a cat on its feet.

Everybody else fell in a tangled, messy heap.

"Paarthurnax!" Leara Rose-blade whined, looking up at the grey-white dragon hovering above her.

"I heard the timer dinging on my sweetrolls," Paarthurnax wailed remorsefully.

"Seriously?" Ulfric asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeperoni!" Paarthurnax exclaimed, nodding his massive head.

"My butt hurts," Kíli groaned.

"My jacksie hurts."

"My ar-!"

"THORIN! SHUT YER TRAP!" Leara screamed at the dwarven king, causing him to stumble backwards in shock.

"Uh... Liiaarah... My time of summons is almost up!" Durnehviir wept, causing great drops of steaming tears to fall on the dwarves, sending them running around in chaos.

"I'm sorry bud, I'll call you back later," Leara Rose-blade soothed, petting his neck.

Durnehviir nodded gratefully before, with a boom and a plume of green smoke, he vanished.

"That is intriguing. However do you summon them?" Gandalf asked, coming up.

Leara shrugged. "Uh... Oh.. Oh, it's magic, you know."

While they spoke, Paarthurnax took off, leaving them with just Odahviing. The thirteen dwarves and Ulfric stared at him and he stared back.

None of them blinked.

"Where are we?" Leara Rose-blade asked Gandalf, both oblivious to their awkward companions.

"I believe we're in the Trollshaws," Gandalf told her after looking around for a moment.

"Trollshaws, eh? I suppose that means trolls and ogres live in these parts?"

"The trolls live up in the northern hills and scarcely come this far southward. I don't think there are any ogres though," Gandalf explained, gesturing with his hands and staff.

"Really? Remind me to tell you guys the story of how my grandma killed a bunch of trolls made of paint," Leara giggled.

"That sounds most interesting, Miss Rose-blade."

"It is, and-."

"ODAHVIING! SPIT THORIN OUT RIGHT NOW!"

Leara and Gandalf turned to see Odahviing sitting in the typical dragon sitting position with something dangling out of his mouth.

On closer inspection, it was everything below Thorin Oakenshield's knees.

"Odahviing!" Leara Rose-blade cried, running forward and yanking on the dwarf's boots.

You see, while the Altmer and the Istari had been conversing, Thorin, trying to be majestic and impressive, had tried to banish Odahviing with his sword.

Odahviing then attempted to eat him.

Fíli and Kíli thought it was funny. Everyone else... Not so much. Thus leading to Ulfric's outburst which had drawn Leara and Gandalf's, attention, leading to Leara trying to pull Thorin out of the red Dovah's giant maw.

"Odahviing! You can't eat him!" Leara Rose-blade cried, joined by Bofur and Glóin in pulling at Thorin. This was a bit hard as there were three of them and Thorin only had two legs

"Dragon! Spit Thorin Oakenshield out this instant!" Gandalf bellowed, seemingly growing ten feet tall.

To most people (especially Hobbits and dwarves) this was very intimidating and even threatening. Seeing as Odahviing was the size of a large hill, he just quirked an eyebrow, but spat Thorin out anyway.

Leara Rose-blade, Bofur, and Glóin leaped back several feet when Thorin flowed out of Odahviing's mouth in a thick river of saliva.

"That is so gross," Ori whispered.

"Ori!" Exclaimed Dori. "Behave!"

"Uncle?" Fíli inquired, poking his uncle's dry left foot (the only dry part of him actually) with his boot.

"Greh!"

"He'll be fine!" Leara ejaculated, slapping both Fíli and Kíli on the back.

"May I ask why you did that?" Balin asked the red dragon.

Odahviing shrugged. "He irks me."

Balin nodded, deeming this a fitting answer.

Leara Rose-blade bent over the soaking wet Thorin.

"Hey, do you wanna get dried off?" She asked gently.

"Yeah," he whimpered.

"Oaky doky, then," the Dragonborn straightened up. "Everyone stand back."

Everyone - including the curious Gandalf, the worried Balin, and the bored Odahviing - stepped back about half a dozen paces.

Leara Rose-blade grinned demonically at Thorin, whose eyes opened wide in horror. Leara cleared her throat, adjusted her position, and opened her mouth wide and took a deep breath.

"FUS RO DAH!"

Thorin, already on the ground, slammed hard against it, all traces of damp and wet dissipating in the fierce wind Leara had spat out.

"Leara..." Ulfric face palmed.

Fíli , Kíli , Balin, and Dwalin scrambled forward and pulled the dazed Thorin to his feet.

"Leara... Stop being so dramatic," Ulfric pleaded as the High Elven Heroine in question fist bumped one of Odahviing's talons.

"Hm? What was that, my dear boy?" Leara turned and smiled at him and Ulfric sighed heavily.

Gandalf turned and stared off towards the east, almost as if he was staring at a chocolate fountain. He then turned to Leara as Thorin began to vomit all over Dwalin.

"Miss Rose-blade?" He spoke in a questioning manner.

"Oui, Monsieur Gandalf?" She queried, turning away from the chilled out Odahviing and the exasperatedly exasperated-as-crap Ulfric to face the wizard.

Gandalf, despite all his shortcomings, understood French even though that language doesn't exist in Nirn or Arda. "Would you care to walk with me? I believe there's something important that should be tended to."

Leara Rose-blade nodded. "Ulfric, you're in charge."

"Yes!" The Jarl cheered.

"No!" Thorin sobbed, vomiting, this time, on Fíli , who began to sob himself.

"Whatevs," Odahviing shrugged, rolling over and squishing a cake Bombur had been trying to make.

The Wizard and the Altmer walked off, speaking about something in French (even though the language still doesn't exist there), leaving the group of fifteen sitting there.

"So... Jennifer Lawrence is hawt," Kíli said leaning against Odahviing. He clicked his tongue at the group and winked.

"Kíli ... Dude..." Fíli moaned, using Bombur's braided beard lasso thing to wipe off the partially digested soup from Bilbo Baggins's Hobbit hole.

"BLONDIE! SHUT UP!" Thorin screamed before spasming and slapping Fíli in the nose.

"The CHEESE!" Fíli yelped, grabbing his throbbing red nose and jumping away from his nutty uncle.

"Mortals are so amusing," Odahviing chuckled. His body vibrated violently with the laughter, causing Kíli to vibrate as well.

"Uh huh uh huh uh huh-!" Kíli mumbled before tumbling flat on his face.

"Hark! Me thinks me see-eth a light forth with ahead!" Balin cried, pointing into the distance.

And indeed, there was! In a grove of trees some two hundred, three hundred yards away to the north, there was a burning orange light, a fire, as it were.

"What do we do about it?" Dori asked, sipping a cup of chamomile.

"We..." Ulfric hesitated. "Oh!"

"Wha?" Dwalin asked, standing as far away from Thorin as possible and wiping his gunk covered face off with a strange plant (its poison oak).

"We should send someone to see if there's anything worth plundering and pillaging and-."

"Yes, we get it," Bofur said loudly, nodding.

"But who?" Nori asked.

Everyone looked at Kíli .

"What? Why me?"

"Not you! Him!" Óin yelled.

Everyone looked at Odahviing.

"Surely you jest!"

"Not you! Him!" Glóin yelled.

Everyone looked at the tree above Odahviing's head.

"Drat and befuddle it all!" Exclaimed one Mister Todd Reachfield of the city of Riften in the Rift (not to be confused with the Reach on the other side of the Falkreath Hold).

"Who are you?" Fíli asked.

"I-."

"This is Todd Reachfield. He thinks he is the Dragonborn when the Dragonborn is actually Liiaarah," Odahviing explained, bored. "Reachfield is the Harbinger of the Companions and Liiaarah is the Arch-Magister of the College of Winterhold. They do not get along."

"Hey, Big Guy, it's not my fault we had to destroy that summoned thingy one of her apprentices summoned in-."

"Shh, Shh, Shh, Shh, Shh!" Odahviing shushed him.

Todd was dumbstruck.

"Is he gonna go or what?" Dwalin asked.

Todd shifted uncomfortably. "I don't normally do the sneaking side of an adventure."

"Then wadda we do?" Ori cried.

Everyone stood penchant for a moment before looking at Thorin, who was still covered in his own vomit and appeared to be quite out of it, mentally speaking.


	3. Of Gentle-Tolls and Higher Education

Chapter Three: Of Gentle-Trolls and Higher Education

Five minutes later and two hundred yards, two feet, two inches, and a fourth of another inch away, three trolls sat eating dinner.

"I say, Sir Robert, this is a truly magnificent stew!"

"Why thank you, Sir Thomas! And this is quite the lovely cast iron pot in which to cook it in!"

"We mustn't forget our dear Sir William, who has invited us to his cave for this delightful party!"

"Oui! C'est bon, mon cher troll!" The greatly immense Sir William cried in the still-nonexistent French language, bowing to Sir Robert and to Sir Thomas.

Sir Thomas reached back to straighten his coat tails (made of only the finest fig leaves) only to touch something extremely cold, hard, and tiny. "I say, whatever is this?" He inquired aloud, grabbing the cold, hard, and tiny thing and pulling it around to the front.

Fíli , in all his golden haired, lightly armored, and general blondness, gave him a Flynn Rider style grin.

"Hi, how're y'all doin'?"

The three gentle-trolls looked aghast at each other.

"His grammar!"

"Tis preposterous!"

"Truly absurd!"

Fíli stared at them.

The three gentle-trolls stared back.

"FOR SPARTA!"

"THIS ISN'T SPARTA YOU FOOLISH DWARF!"

"SHUT UP BLONDIE!"

The obviously insane but still majestic Thorin Oakenshield and the true and sane High King of Skyrim Ulfric Stormcloak ran into the clearing waving their swords and arguing even as they charged the trolls. Behind them, Balin, Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, Ori, Glóin, Óin, and Kíli charged in after them, hollering and screaming about food, pastries, never ending hunger, and nutritious sustenance.

The three gentle-trolls stared as the twelve dwarves and single man started whacking them with their puny weapons.

"I say!"

"They're quite bothersome."

"Indeed."

Thorin puffed up his chest, took a deep breath, and in a deep and commanding voice, he spoke.

"Put that blonde Casanova down right now!"

Ulfric, Dwalin, and Balin took the time to face palm. Well, Ulfric and Balin face palmed, Dwalin just started scratching his face where an angry red rash had started to form.

"Why ever should we listen to a group of uneducated ruffians and marauders such as yourselves?" Sir Thomas asked.

"Because I am the king!" Thorin and Ulfric said in unison.

They looked at each other.

"What? I'm the king! No! You aren't king! How dare you insinuate that I am not a king! I am a majestic king! I am a king fighting for my throne! What? You can't fight for your throne too! That's against the rules in the King's Handbook!" Back and forth Ulfric and Thorin went, arguing over their individual kingliness and such and so forth.

As they did this, the three gentle-trolls, ever in favor of higher education and civilized manners, took each of the dwarves (and Ulfric) and strapped them to uncomfortable desks with chains from which they would attempt to give each and every one of them an education worthy of Harvard, Yale, Oxford, and other highly rated universities that don't exist in Arda or Nirn.

And when the party of fourteen realized this, it was too late!

"We should not bother with introductions and such, for the dawn isn't far in coming," Sir William advised.

"I surely do not fancy becoming a stone statue!" Sir Robert exclaimed, fearful.

"Of course you do not!" Sir Thomas shook his head. "They should - how do they say it? Ah, yes, they shall 'cram' tonight and tomorrow we shall give them an exam!"

"That would be - oh sweet gumdrop Nellie Sue!"

Sir Robert and Sir Thomas hastened to Sir William's side and immediately they pulled off a rather short creature with curly brownish blonde hair, a red coat, a green waistcoat with golden buttons, and no shoes.

"I say!"

"What is it?"

"I do believe it would be informative to ask him!"

The three gentle-trolls nodded in joint agreement before looking once more at the creature.

"What, pray tell, are you, my good sir?"

"I'm a cosplayer."

"A what?"

"I'm Dr. John Watson." The Watsobbit looked rather bored.

"A doctor?"

"Wherever did you get your degree?"

"Do you mean a medical doctor or a science doctor?"

"Uh..." John Watson looked uncomfortable from where he dangled from the beefy fingers of Sir Thomas.

Suddenly Todd Reachfield burst into the clearing.

"I have a degree on lycanthropy from Jorrvaskr!"

The dwarves all looked at each other.

The gentle-trolls all looked at each other.

Ulfric and Dr. Watson looked at each other.

"I have a degree on the Way of the Voice from High Hrothgar!"

"I have a masters from Bree on toy making!"

"I have a doctorate in larceny from an inn in Dunland!"

"I have you all beat! I have a PhD in archery from the Golden Wood!"

Upon hearing this statement, Thorin kicked Kíli in the head.

"I possess a bachelorette in Westron some creepy lady in some shadowy inn gave me!"

"It's not called a bachelorette, Mr. Balin," Ori corrected.

"Ori!" Exclaimed Dori. "Behave!"

Here after, the dwarves started spouting off different subjects they had degrees in. Including but not limited to: a masters on cooking from a rude Hobbit lady, a doctorate in building from the Golden Hall of Edoras in Rohan, an actual bachelor's degree from Minas Tirith on hair dye (this one belonging to Dwalin), and a PhD on braiding hair from the Woodland Realm.

Thorin kicked Fíli as soon as he said that.

Everyone stared at each other, again.

"They're rather fanciful, aren't they?"

"Quite."

"Indeed."

"DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!"

Everyone jumped as none other than Leara Rose-blade and Gandalf the Grey appeared, standing upon a giant boulder.

Or half a boulder, seeing as Gandalf had just broken it.

And they were both licking rather large ice cream cones.

But that's not the point.

The point is, the two had returned and broke a boulder which caused the early rays of dawn to pour over the three trolls.

"Why, who are they?" Sir Robert asked before turning to stone.

"I haven't an inkling," Sir Thomas shook his head in reply before turning into stone himself.

"Could we educate them too?" Sir William inquired before, at last, turning to stone.


	4. Febreeze and Other Matters

Chapter Four: Febreeze and Other Matters

Everyone stared at the stone gentle-trolls and then at Gandalf and Leara and then their ice cream.

"Did you bring us some?" Bofur asked.

"No!" Leara exclaimed as she unlocked the chains holding Fíli , Kíli , Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin. "Your face is really weird looking," she told the itchy bald dwarf.

"Urgh..."

The Altmer and the Istari went around and freed the dwarves and Ulfric, and then Leara noticed Todd.

"Reachfield!"

"Rose-blade!"

The two growled before approaching each other, tense.

"What are you doing here?" Leara Rose-blade demanded, getting in the Nord's face.

"If you must know, there is a rather large bounty on a mountain-dwelling dragon, not including the untold riches he guards in those ancient mountain halls," Todd Reachfield snapped, flinging spittle on Leara's face.

"That's my kill! As Dragonborn!" The She-Elf cried indignantly. She stomped her foot for emphasis.

"Just because you can use the Voice and absorb the souls of dragons, doesn't mean you are the Dragonborn!"

"I'm pretty sure it does, you-!"

Before Leara Rose-blade could finish her sentence by calling Todd Reachfield several rude names, Odahviing marched into the clearing and - and ate him.

The great red dragon had eaten the annoying werewolf.

The horned Dovah had eaten the string bean-like Nord.

The dragon that allied himself with the Dragonborn had eaten the leader of the puppy squad from Skyrim.

Leara blinked.

Odahviing coughed.

"He tastes like chicken," he coughed again.

"You think everything tastes like chicken," Leara Rose-blade reminded him, rolling her eyes.

Odahviing shook his massive horned cranium. "No, the chicken doesn't taste like chicken."

Balin walked over to them. "Then how do you know what chicken tastes like?"

"Because I am Od-ah-viing!"

Balin nodded, deeming this to be a satisfactory answer.

Meanwhile, some five and a half and three quarter yards away, give or take a foot or so, Gandalf was watching several different verities of wild fowl and birds alight atop the stone trolls, leaving quite the, eh, mess. Thorin approached him, looking quite out of sorts with dried puke over the front of his clothes, sticks tangled in his luxuriously majestic mane of ebony colored locks, and goop from the Elmer's glue that had been on his desk all in his short little beard. Not half as epic as Gimli's beard, but seeing as he's not here and is, after all, only a kid at the moment by dwarven standards, we can't do a proper comparison on beards.

Moving on.

"These trolls couldn't have moved in daylight," Gandalf mused, munching on his ice cream cone.

"How do you get this goop out of hair?" Thorin asked, ignoring the now messy troll statues he was standing next to.

"There must be a cave nearby..."

"Good!" The disheveled oaken shield wielding fellow exclaimed. "Maybe they have hair products in there to take care of the abnormal, abysmal, abhorrently atrocious stuff in my majestic, miraculously marvelous mane of hair!"

Gandalf stared at him dumbly and a scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream fell from the cone to the ground. "Where ever did you learn such big, complicated words, Thorin Oakenshield?"

Thorin stared at him. "Wha?"

"Never mind," Gandalf shook his head. He then turned around... And spotted John Watson.

John Watson who was still dressed like Bilbo Baggins's identical twin brother, to be exact.

"My dear Mr. Baggins! It seems you have finally decided to join us!" Gandalf exclaimed, looking rather pleased and, dare I type it, smug.

Dr. Watson looked up at Gandalf, startled. "Oh, no, you have me mistaken for someone else, I'm-."

"You know, you're a little taller than I remember you being last evening," Gandalf mused, staring at the fidgety Watsobbit. He snapped his fingers and a small pink fire work went off a couple feet above the Grey Wizard's head. "You did something with your hair!"

Dr. Watson gave him a bored (or blank or confused, he gets those mixed up) look. He then sighed. "Okay then, you people think I'm some three foot tall Elf/Dwarf hybrid called a Hobbit or Halfling and, not only that, you think I'm the one who is supposed to steal things for you from a dragon who sounds like my flatmate."

Gandalf nodded affirmative.

Grumbling, Dr. Watson crossed his arms. "Fine! I'll help you! If I get a Chinese cat statue in return."

Gandalf nodded again. "Thorin, are there any Chinese cat statues in Erebor?"

The head dwarf shook his head. "No idea."

Dr. Watson shrugged. "Close enough."

Once they were all assembled together, everyone (minus Odahviing) trudged around for fifteen minutes searching for the troll cave/horde/place/thing.

And that was when they found it.

Within the heart of a cluster of boulders, dark and stinky, was the cave.

"You know, I hadn't expected it to be this disgusting," Ulfric mused thoughtfully, staring at the entrance where flies were buzzing and little green fungi grew. It was totally gross.

"Trolls need a healthy amount of flies and fungi to thrive or else they'll shrivel up like dried out mushrooms," Leara Rose-blade explained, standing next to her blonde sidekick.

Gandalf went to the entrance and took a rather large whiff. He promptly turned green and smoke shot put of his nostrils, ears, and mouth.

"Does... An... Ee... One... Have... A... Can... Of... Feb... reze©?" He wheezed, coughing between each syllable.

Everyone started rummaging around in their pockets before Bifur pulled out a can of lavender scented air freshener.

"Thanks," Gandalf coughed, taking the can of Febreze© and spraying it like a madman into the cave.

Fifteen and a half minutes later...

"There! The can's empty and everything smells like flowers!"

"It's GIRL SCENTED!" Thorin screamed, momentarily forgetting about his ruined hair.

"Well I'm a girl so the scent should love me!" Leara Rose-blade cried happily, striding into the now lavender scented cave. Ulfric hastened to follow and Fíli and Kíli , one blonde and one ever ready to please the golden Altmer, bounced after them.

The remaining thirteen (eleven dwarves, a wizard, and a Watsobbit) stared after them before, after staring dumbly for a few minutes, ran in after them.

Inside, Ulfric had found a Mûmikal tusk, Fíli and Kíli had found candy floss (I advise not eating food from a troll cave, but they don't listen to the Narrator), and Leara Rose-blade had discovered-.

"Swords! Of Gondola! From Italy! Wow!" She cried, holding a sword with only one stick thingy on the spot between the handle and the blade.

Gandalf walked up to her and looked at the one with two stick thingies instead of one.

"These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age!"

"My kin?" Leara asked.

Gandalf shrugged.

Thorin walked up and Leara handed him the sword with one stick thingy.

"These swords were not made by any troll," he said, looking over the shiny silver sword.

"Dude!"

"We just established this!"

Thorin shrugged, not really caring. "Who made these bad mama jamas then?"

"These were forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin," Leara Rose-blade explained. In all actuality, Leara's Elven heritage came from her grandmother and she was of stout Altmer decent. No one knows if the Aldmeri of Aldmeris had any connection with the Noldor, Vanyar, or Sindar, but that's not why we're here today.

"You keep creeping me out with your continuous, spontaneous spouts of Elven jibber jabber!" Thorin whined, non-majestically.

"Quit being such a drama queen!" Leara Rose-blade whined back.

Gandalf then whacked Thorin on the head with his staff...

"Ow-y!"

... And gave Leara a Hershey's© chocolate bar with almonds.

"Thank you!"

**Author's Note: We all knew Gandalf played favorites, now the trick is to become one of his favorites so we get free chocolate. That might be more trouble than its worth… Maybe we should all become Galadriel's favorite instead!**

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**Okay… we don't have a sponsor. Let me go take care of that. *leaves before peaking back in * oh, and the story's disclaimer is at the bottom of chapter one, thank you. *wanders off again***


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